This nursery was quite a bit of work.  When we first bought this house last November, we knew that this room would need a complete and total redo.  It had a wallpaper border at the top (I HATE THOSE!!!) and an old and yucky carpet that looked and smelled like someone had been brutally murdered on it (and when we tore it up, the marks on the hardwood floor didn’t do much to convince us otherwise).

These before pictures were taken before we actually bought the house.  I wish I’d taken more detailed photos of that scary carpet.  Just to prove that it looked like someone was murdered on it and then the carpet was bleached to death.

Luckily the room looks completely different now.  The contrast from that dark and smelly room to the bright and cheery room that it is now is awesome.  It’s a happy room.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE this Vintage Snoopy bed set.  I guess I could have re-used Lukas’ bed set.  I made sure that his was very unisex and it is still damned adorable, but I really wanted this baby to have something of his own and for Lukas’ bed set to always be JUST Lukas’.  These boys are going to have to share a LOT of things during their lives, and I see no harm in throwing in a unique thing here and there.  Sure, these bed sets will probably be donated when this baby has outgrown his, but I still just wanted this to be something that was unique to each of them.  I grew up with lots of hand-me-downs and I know how those few things that were all mine were so special.  I want my boys to have those few things as well.

Here is the changing table/chest of drawers that my Facebook followers talked about last night.  Jessie put it together and kept doing silly Jessie things that had my in stitches.  This is EXACTLY like Lukas’ and that is simply because it is an awesome piece of furniture.  After it is no longer a changing table, it can just be a dresser/chest of drawers until they move out and take it with them.

Now I’m really going to kill you with cute.  Who’s ready for itty bitty baby clothes?

Drawer full of tiny socks, tiny hats, and dozens of bibs.  I’m so glad that I didn’t have to re-buy a lot of these.

I get excited about holding my new baby in my arms when I am reminded how tiny he will be.  That’s a tiny sock!

I’m hoping that both of us will be out of the hospital and home by the time trick or treaters come around to my house.  I plan on sitting on my front porch with my little baby swaddled and wearing this as I hand out treat bags.

Before I started having kids, I remember my mother-in-law telling me that I needed LOTS of onesies.  She was right and I’m glad that I have lots here.

Teeny tiny shoesies, anyone?  Yes, they are shoesies!

Teeny Tiny bunny slipper!  Passed down from his big brother who was able to wear them for about the first week of his life before he outgrew them.

Teeny tiny sneaker also passed down from Lukas.  Lukas wore these ONCE.  The child was born with size 12 feet, I swear.

A closet stuffed full of clothes.  Most of them are hand-me-downs, but there are a few outfits in there that are just for the new baby.

For those of you perceptive enough to notice the wallpaper on the inside of the closet, yes, we are leaving the pink ribboned wallpaper up.  When this child is old enough to have a problem with the pink ribbons inside of his closet and complains about it, we figure he’ll also be old enough to help remove it.  I hate wallpaper so much.

ATTACK OF THE GIANT BELLY!

Aaaaand the weird belly button thing is back!

And to put a proper end to this cuteness post, I give you a picture of my beautiful first-born.  He thinks Momma’s bed is paradise and takes every opportunity to get snuggled in under that quilt that he and I both adore.

You guessed it, I’m going to withhold details.  I’m not going to talk about what made my week.  I’m not going to talk about my stupid little troubles.  Because you know what?  While they are a big deal to me right now and are dominating my life (a life that should be VERY happy considering my almost wonderful everyday circumstances), 6 months down the road I am not going to be thinking about it.  Not often at least.  A year down the road, I’ll have succeeded in brushing off a lot of this garbage.

I’m just going to belly ache for the main purpose of my beautiful readers and friends to give me support and virtual hugs.  Because I really fucking need that right now.  Badly.

The sickness has been really bad lately.  The pills have helped to stop the vomiting, but the nausea has been terrible and I haven’t been eating much.  At first I thought that maybe this ugly sickness was just having one last go at me before the pregnancy is over, but now I’m not so sure.  I think the stress of recent events has been wreaking havoc on my already fucked up pregnant body.  I’m having issues with gestational diabetes (not confirmed, but have been wasting a lot of my damned time at the hospital drinking glucose solution and having tube after tube after tube after tube of blood taken from my arm).  I’m also having issues with my weight.  My doctor asked me at one appointment if I was on a diet because my weight gain is not so good I guess.  I got mad at him and told him AGAIN that I have HG and that I just don’t have much of an appetite.  But everything with the baby at that point looked good.  As long as the abuse is heaped on me, I’m okay with that.  As long as my baby is healthy and safe in my body, I can deal.  But at my appointment today……..

I was in the Dr.’s office two weeks ago and was measuring at 29 weeks.  Right where I needed to be.  Today I measured at 28 weeks and the doctor was a little alarmed.  He asked me over and over again if the baby’s movement is okay.  How many times a day does the baby move?  Is it all day or only once or twice a day?  Are you sure you aren’t leaking fluid?  When I assured him (I had to calm HIM down) that the baby is VERY active and moves all day and that I am not leaking fluid, he scribbled something on my chart and told me that I need to go get an ultrasound “just to make sure everything is fine.”  He then started explaining that this could be nothing.  That I might just have a short pelvis (wtf is wrong with my pelvis NOW?) or some other very benign things.  Then he looked at me and said,

“How are you feeling?  Have you been sick?”

And then it clicked.  This stress has taken a physical toll on me and my baby.  And oh, I was immediately so angry.  Stress and ridiculous circumstances could possibly be hurting my baby.

Nothing’s certain right now.  I have the ultrasound after the weekend and can make sure that my baby is okay.  I’ll also just be able to see him.  The little person kicking the bejeezus out of me will be on a screen for me to see and admire.  My resolve to protect that tiny creature has doubled.  I just need to see him.  And I am freaking out a little bit.  I’m in the home stretch of this pregnancy.  I’ve made it past an “almost” miscarriage, the bitch part of the sickness, and the basic growing pains of having a person grow in your abdomen.  I wish so much that I didn’t have to worry about this baby so much…especially when it is possibly caused by things that could have been avoided altogether.

Hopefully in November I’ll be able to write a blog post about my relief and gratefulness that this baby is just fine despite all of the silly little scares.  That I’ll be able to take hundreds of pictures of this baby and his big brother together and show off my two beautiful healthy babies.  Hopefully, like before, this turns out to be nothing.

It had been 5 years since I’d last been to Rehoboth Beach.  I love this place.  It was the first beach I had ever been to (at the age of 13) and it is the only beach I really like now.  Sure, when I was 17-18, I really liked beaches that had lots of clubs and hot guys to flirt with, but now that I’m a momma and a wife, I prefer the smaller, quiet Rehoboth.

I hesitate to say outright that Rehoboth is a gay beach.  It’s a beach where lots of families come to mingle with the gay people.  So I guess the most gentle way to say it is that Rehoboth is very gay friendly.  It’s one of the things that makes this place so charming.  There are awesome gay stores (Out Gear) and just really really cool people there.  Jessie and I actually went there on our honeymoon.  It was slightly off season and we really got a good view of how the town itself is very gay friendly.  It was a great week.

We had a very good weekend there.  Lukas was good at night and slept well, and he enjoyed all of the shops and the sand.  The water, however, was another story.

This year is the first year that I’ve been able to get Lukas into a swimming pool without the child freaking the hell out.  I’ve taken him swimming every summer of his life and he’s always hated it.  This year, he’s been all about swimming at Grandma’s house and doing daredevil dives into our arms.  So it was a bit of a stretch to believe he’d be ok with water that has waves and knocks him over.  He wasn’t impressed.  We got him to venture out a couple of times and even got him to go out into deeper water with us holding him.  And then a huge wave broke right upside the poor child’s head and he was DONE.  Maybe next time I’ll be able to talk him into going out deep with me.

We all had a good time at the shops.  He marveled at the hermit crabs, sea shells, and preserved baby sharks in a bottle.  He loved the Christmas shop and Out Gear (everything had rainbows!!).  He loved all of the neat little eateries.  He ran us ragged going from store to store, but he had a good time…..so it was worth it.

I’ll post a video tomorrow, but for now, here are some pictures from our trip.  I can’t wait to go back!

Playing in sand.

Lunch at Nathan’s.

He pooped out from all the shopping and slept through dinner.

Wearing his “Macho Man” hat.

BEST.  CHRISTMAS TREE.  ORNAMENT.  EVER.

Video tomorrow!

In his little bubble-reality, he can acknowledge that he has desires for other women.  He can also acknowledge that other men might desire his lovely wife.  But at no point did it ever occur to him that his wife might actually desire another man, and leave him for that man.  He knows his wife is beautiful and that she is smart and interesting.  He sees her as a sexual creature, but only with himself.  In the course of their long term relationship, he has gone from seeing her as a complex woman with wants and desires to a wife and mother.  To him, the acts of being a wife and mother suffocated the natural human desires in the woman.

It turns out that he was wrong, and he spends the rest of the movie trying to deal with that by seeking the sexual company of another woman and failing miserably.

I know that Jessie sometimes forgets that I’m more than a wife, cook, house cleaner and mother.  I can’t say that I blame him sometimes.  When he gets home from work, he’s greeted by a tired person whose hair is pulled back in a bun and is wearing comfortable but hideous clothes.  I can’t look sexy when I’m in the bedroom watching Adult Swim and folding his underwear.  I can’t look sexy when I’m covered in splatters of spaghetti sauce and on my hands and knees wiping up a milk mess from the floor.  But just because I don’t look it doesn’t mean that I don’t wish for it and wish to seek it out.

I stay home all day and use my time in running a house and raising our son (soon to be two sons).  I take care of groceries, meals, laundry, house cleaning, child rearing, and usually bills.  I also serve as a conversationalist to my husband and his number one supporter.  I sit and listen to the details of his day and involve myself in those details so as to stay current in our conversations.  And sometimes it all bores me to death.

I still have dreams for myself.  I have wants.  I have desires.  I’ve been in the presence of other men and been extremely uncomfortable because of my attraction to them.  I’m committed in my relationship, but damn it, I’m still a woman with warm blood pumping through my veins.  Don’t forget that about me.

The worst part about all of this is when I, myself, forget this about myself.  I forget that I’m more than just Momma and Jessie’s wife.  I’m more than just the person fretting over what to make for dinner that night.  I’m more than the person who takes pride in the fact that I’ve found the perfect combination of laundry detergent and fabric softener that makes my towels smell like heaven.  It’s always in times of desperation and frustration that I remember, usually when I’m upset that someone else has forgotten.  That’s a damned shame, but in the drudgery of day to day life, an inevitability.

So when you see me kissing one of my kids or holding hands with my husband, please remember that there’s more to me.  There’s so much swimming beneath.  I’m still complex, I’m still human.  Yes, I’m a wife and mother, but I’m also still a woman.

I was so sure it was a girl.  So as it turns out, I am full of shit.  I’ll admit that I had a little moment when I first saw that little extra appendage.  This is it for me.  The end.  Before I got pregnant this time, there was always at least the hope that someday I would have a little girl of my own, but now that is all gone.  So yes, I had a moment.  And that’s all it was.  A tiny little pang in my heart that faded as I started planning a blue teddy bear nursery and teeny tiny baseball hats and precious little sneakers for tiny little boy feet.  Now that I know the sex of my L.O., I am very excited to meet him and hold him in my arms.

The loss of the prospect of someday having a daughter of my own is still a little sore for me right now.  Last night we were at Walmart doing some shopping and (of course) I made a detour through the baby section.  I was looking at a stuffed dinosaur that played music when I bumped into a rack.  On it were tiny dresses with pink and green flowers accessorized by dainty white cardigans.  I blinked back a few tears and stepped away from the rack, like it was going to bite me.  I may pout about it forever.  It’s in no way blaming my two sons for being sons.  I guess I just wanted to have that extra experience (and pain in the ass) of raising a daughter.  But that possibility is gone from my life.  There is no more daydreaming for me, no more fantasizing about what kind of woman I would release into the world.  That daydream is disintegrating like a wisp of smoke, never to be seen again.

In place of that daydream, I have futures to plan.  I have men to put out into the world this time.  Good men.  Men who will be kind.  Men who will put their responsibilities before their own wants.  Men who will in no way EVER remind me of some of the men that I grew up around.  Good husbands (or partners).  Good fathers.  Good friends.  And most of all, good brothers.

I guess my destiny was to be surrounded by toy cars and dinosaurs.  To have discussions about why it is not appropriate to shake your winky at your grandmother.  To raise men who will grow up and never be able to relate to me as anything more than their mother.  Oh well.  I shrug it off and move on.  I love my Lukas and I’ll love my L.O.  If L.O. giggles and hugs even half as much as his big brother, I’ll have it pretty damned good.

Cute Note* I’m crying a little bit as I’m writing this post and as if to say “Don’t worry Momma,” L.O. gave me a right good kick to my bladder.  I can’t wait to meet him.

I had another blog post in mind for today, but this little blah blah is really just a platform for me to show off another video of Lukas being cute.  Today we sat in the sunroom and played with some of his toys and munched on some Oreo cookies.  We both share a deep love for Oreos, even though our view on how to eat them differ.  I am all about keeping them whole and dunking them.  Lukas is a split-and-lick kind of guy, which upsets me greatly.  He’s ruining a perfectly good cookie!

Lukas Oreo Face from Somer Canon on Vimeo.

Note:  I also LOVE how every “sentence” end in “Momma.”  If he’s talking to his toys and I’m in the room, every sentence directed at them still ends in “Momma.”  It’s really freaking cute.

When I put his bare tushy on that potty, I still wasn’t 100% sure that he was ready.  I didn’t expect anything to happen.  I sat  him down, sat across from him and just calmly began chit chatting with him about pee pee and poo poo.  He enthusiastically chatted back and wanted to focus mainly on pee pee and his winky. 

Suddenly, he got quiet.  He looked down at his winky and, to my surprise, started going pee pee!  I squealed and clapped and exclaimed over and over again what a good boy he was.  He continued to go pee pee  until his bladder was empty.  You could have knocked me over with  feather. 

I called Jessie and my mother and excitedly informed them of this new development.  Everybody was excited and stunned at how he seemed to “get it.”  An hour later, I cautiously took him back down to sit again.  I’m prepared for setbacks and accidents.  I’m prepared for flukes.  But he went pee pee again!!!  Again!!  He’s sitting next to me right now enjoying some ice cold apple juice and his next appointment with the potty is in a half hour.  If he goes pee pee again, I will take that as a sign that he is definitely ready to start potty training seriously. 

5 years ago, I never would have thought that a few ounces of urine would make me so excited that I would blog about it.  But I just did.  I just shared with the world that my son squirting a little pee has made my week.  Oh, parenthood!

The pregnancy seems to have stabilized and I am now in my 11th week.  That means that this baby is now in the fetus stage and has only a 15% chance of miscarriage at this point.  That’s SO much better than the 50/50 odds I had before.  I am extremely happy about that.

The sickness is also starting to chill out a little bit.  I think this gorgeous weather is helping a lot.  It’s nice to go outside and play with Lukas in our backyard and watch for birds and squirrels.  We pick flowers and water the rose bushes.  It’s really nice.  I still have days where I just can’t seem to kick it, but they are getting less and less.  I’ve lost a little bit of weight, but nothing close to what I lost with Lukas.  This time around, since I have the medication so early, it’s mostly the nausea that has kept me from eating.  Even talking about food is miserable sometimes and certain smells set me right the heck off.  For instance, we bought a new refrigerator because the one that came with this house was really old and it was also moldy on the inside because they turned off the electricity and didn’t open the doors on it.  I could never get that mold smell completely out, so Jessie surprised me with a new fridge.  Well, this new fridge’s “new fridge smell” made me sick every time I had to smell it.  And I have to smell it several times a day.  Lukas needs to eat and he needs juice.  That sucked.  I was getting him some lunch one day and accidentally got a big whiff of that smell and ended up vomiting in my kitchen sink.  I felt really bad about that because Lukas was beside me holding on to my hand saying, “Are you ok, Momma?  Momma?  No cry, Momma.  I sorry, Momma.  Momma?  Are you ok?”  And after, every time I would cough, he would look at me and ask if I was ok.  He’s never seen me vomit before and I felt really bad that it alarmed him like that.  But he’s a sweet boy.

Another completely amazing thing is that my belly has popped a little bit already.  With Lukas, I wasn’t showing until around week 20.  Now I’ve got this little belly sticking out (more so than my cheeseburger belly).  People have made comments about it, so it’s not just me seeing it.  I know that second pregnancies show a lot sooner, but sheesh!  I need to get my old ugly maternity pants out already!

Another thing of interest is that the bedroom is FINALLY done.  My in-laws came up on two weekends and Jessie and his father worked their asses off getting this bedroom ready for me.  It was so nice of them and I am so thankful.  This room looks fantastic and it’s so nice not to be sleeping on a mattress on the floor anymore.  Once I get all the pictures hung and all that, I’ll post before and after pictures.  It’s a HUGE difference.

A few weeks ago, when I was really down and feeling sorry for myself, a new blog came to my attention that I am really thankful that I found.  Our Baby Bump Story is an infertility blog.  It’s a beautiful blog that I love to read.  The author is a woman who has been trying to conceive for a few years with no success.  The tone of the blog has it’s ups and downs.  Sometimes she is hopeful, excited, and optimistic.  Sometimes she is defeated, tired, and scared of her dreams of motherhood never coming to fruition.  It’s a sentiment that I can’t personally relate to at all.  I mean, all things aside, it’s been relatively easy for me to conceive both times.  I have NO fertility problems and I think that, for me, that would be a thousand times more heartbreaking than the HG.  It’s nice to get another perspective sometimes.

That’s about all for now.  I think you’ll start seeing more regular posts soon.  With Lukas, the sickness backed off with the medication at about 18 weeks, but I was also weak and I’d been untreated for 16 weeks.  Maybe by the time the second trimester comes along, I can start living a semi-normal life again.  I have one question for you all this time, though.  I know that I did the belly picture thing with Lukas.  Personally, I don’t find it to be all that interesting this time around, but if you, my readers and friends are at all interested in gawking at my bulging belly, I’ll post pictures on this blog for you.  Leave your feedback in the comments.

He looked over at me and nodded.

“I’m afraid to have anymore children with you.”  I said.

“What?  Why?”

“I wanted to fix some things in this relationship before we bring another baby into this family.  I wanted us to be more stable.”

This conversation occurred on February 18.  I found out I was pregnant with my second child on February 19.

It was a Friday night.  I’d been feeling sick and fatigued for the last few days.  He went out and bought a box of home pregnancy tests.

“Give me a kiss for luck,” I said as I went to the bathroom.

I took the test and tried to compose myself after seeing the positive result.  I stood on the stairs looking at him.

“Well?”  He asked.  “Are you pregnant?”

I nodded and sank to the floor and started sobbing.  He stood there just staring at me, not knowing how to react.

Yes, I was unhappy about this.  For several reasons.  The number one fact being that I wasn’t ready.  I’m still so scared of going through this again.  Intellectually I know that this pregnancy should be better.  We know about the HG, we are closer to family, and I’ll have a better idea of what to expect.

Emotionally, well that’s a different story.  Emotionally, I’m scared of my abilities to be a good mother to Lukas while sick and pregnant.  I’m scared of how a new baby will affect Lukas.  I’m scared he will feel pushed aside.  I’m scared that the things that are broken in my marriage will become aggravated once the new baby comes like they did when Lukas was first born.  But the big thing?  I didn’t plan this.  I wasn’t taking prenatal vitamins for 6 months prior to this pregnancy like I did with Lukas (which was good since I was unable to keep anything down, prenatal vitamins included, for the first 5 months of that pregnancy).  I didn’t have every detail worked out ahead of time.  The control freak in me is freaking the hell out.

But it’s happened and now I need to warm up to the idea.  I’ve had nearly a week to let it all sink in.  I’m warming up to it.  I’m getting excited about another baby in the house.  I’m still having my sour moments, but they are about this being unplanned and not about me being unhappy about a new baby.  A trip to Target’s baby section helped me to get the right perspective about a new baby.  I walked to the pajama section, picked up a set of footie fleecy pj’s in a newborn size and started crying.  A new tiny baby.  Oh yes, I can get behind that idea.

I’m doing ok.  Really I am.  The sickness has kicked in earlier this time around.  The motion-sickness-but-not-moving-reading-nausea is terrible.  That’s why my online presence is being so quiet.  I’d like to thank everybody (my friends and internet family) for all the well wishing and congratulations.  You guys are great.

Since I didn’t have a baby shower with Lukas, I was thinking about throwing myself a party in late spring.  Not a baby shower, just a party.  A chance to celebrate a new baby without soliciting gifts from all of my guests (not that I’m against that, I’ve just already got most of what I need).  I’ll flesh that idea out after I can finally get an appointment with a doctor and get some pills.  I’m not taking this lightly.  I may be pregnant, but I’m still the Momma to a toddler and he needs me.  He needs me to not be bed-ridden and to be able to chase him round the house and play bouncy ball with him.  It will be taken care of ASAP.

Until then, my dear friends and family.  Thank you so much again for your love and support.

Thursday morning the nausea was stronger.  Unrelenting.  Blinding.  Familiar.

By Thursday night I was worried.  I thought that I was late but I wasn’s sure.

Friday morning I woke up nauseous.  My left breast hurt.  Not like a tender hurt, like a deep down (milk duct) hurt.  I had about 3 HUGE pimples on my face.  THAT was worrisome.  My skin is usually really well behaved, but when not 1, not 2, but 3 huge pimples show up on my face, I start asking questions.

Oh boy……